


Waiting for them

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, First Kiss, Good Mordred (Merlin), Historical References, Immortality, M/M, Marriage, Merlin is a Little Shit, Once and Future King, Post-Canon, well ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Both Merlin and Mordred have been burdened with immortality, and are waiting for the others to rise
Relationships: Merlin/Mordred (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 258





	Waiting for them

It started as some sort of sick joke that Destiny threw them. Neither one wanted to see the other, so they made sure to make that fact clear. Merlin did a lot of screaming and throwing fire, Mordred did a lot of cursing and trying to secretly kill him with poisonous plants. Amusing, looking back on it, but the anger after the Battle remained. The two of them didn’t return to Camelot, Mordred heading North, and Merlin leaving Albion altogether.

The next time they met, over a hundred years had passed. By this point, their immortality had been proved, and the shock at seeing each other was noticeable. Mordred promptly toppled from the horse he had been riding, while Merlin stayed on horseback beside his new Master. The boy was put in chains (conveniently cold iron) and taken to the Castle that was Merlin’s new home.

Strangely, Merlin felt the need to help Mordred escape. Breaking him out of the cell wasn’t difficult, and as he looked to the confused Druid, he shrugged.

‘You should run. He’ll tie you to a Pyre.’ The boy (because he still looked young, even if Merlin tried to remind himself he was very, very old) looked startled, briefly reached to touch Merlin’s arm.

‘Thank you, Emrys.’ And with that, the Druid was disappearing back into the night, leaving Merlin to live his new life.

They met in the Court of William the Conqueror, the first King of England. Mordred bowed low, flicking his gaze to where Merlin stood, behind the King’s throne.

‘My Advisor tells me that you can be trusted,’ A pause, in which Mordred nodded his head in thanks to Merlin. The Warlock still hadn't decided why he had done such a thing.

‘So, welcome to Court, Mordred of the North.’

They stayed out of each other’s way, for the most parts. Occasionally they would try and trip the other up, or use Magic to secretly put the other into trouble. It got to the point where both of them were kicked from the King’s Court, and Merlin found himself once again trying to kill the Druid. In return, Mordred attempted to drown him by sinking the ship he tried to take back to Normandy, so it was only fair.

Merlin returned to England at the side of Henry Tudor, watching as Mordred was forced to kneel to the King he had not supported at the Battle. Henry was naturally untrusting of anyone apart from his Mother and Uncle, even his bride was not worthy of his attention. Merlin had worked hard to gain favour, and had just enough power to stop Mordred from losing his head.

‘He’s harmless, my King.’ Mordred rose his eyes to meet Merlin’s gaze, and the Warlock swallowed, looking away.

Later, Mordred stormed into his Chambers, and Merlin looked at the Druid.

‘You look older.’ The boy was more of a man, stubble lining his jaw and his dark hair thicker, eyes showing the pain of living for such a long time.

‘Why save me?’ He snapped, and Merlin could tell he was thinking back to the boat incident.

‘I honestly don’t know.’ He never knew why he did it, but something stopped him from killing Mordred. Maybe it was the fact they were both immortal, in a world where Magic no longer was practiced.

‘Thank you.’ It was Merlin’s turn to be confused, staring at the honest expression on Mordred’s face.

For some reason, Merlin managed to convince the King to marry one of the Plantagenet heirs to Mordred, assuring him that it would be good to keep the man at Court. Mordred stayed quiet as he was given a title, but the flicker of a smile told Merlin he’d done the right thing.

The next time they fought was over the choice between Lady Jane Grey or Princess Mary. It was Merlin’s turn to be on the losing side, kneeling at the new Queen’s feet while Mordred stood behind her, the confidante to the ruler.

‘Forgive him, he’s blinded by loyalty to your young brother. Show him the ways of Catholicism, and he will be converted.’ Merlin was happy he wasn’t going to the Pyre, thanked him later when they were alone. A drink was shared, the first one that had not been poisoned of spiked, and the two of them actually managed to sit in the same room for a while.

‘Do you miss her? Morgana, I mean.’ Merlin asked, watched as Mordred’s eyes widened. The Druid then looked down, before shaking his head.

‘I feel I was blinded by my rage, and I thought less of Magic. Much as she did, I fear.’ Merlin pondered on that fact, before draining the rest of his drink in one smooth motion.

‘I think I should have trusted you. Shown Morgana that Arthur would change.’ The names hadn't been spoken in so long, they hurt to say so casually, and it was proof that they were both trying. Merlin left the room feeling lighter than he had in years.

It took the Hanover Kings to make Mordred and Merlin friends, fighting on the same side for once. Every battle that came, Merlin would pray that Arthur would return, while Mordred would pick up the pieces when he didn’t. The two of them quickly invested in land together, over the old Kingdom of Camelot, building a home plenty big enough for when they did rise.

Queen Victoria’s reign saw Mordred married once more, the Lady Anna coming to live with the two of them. She pointed out on more than one occasion that it was slightly odd that two grown men from different bloodlines lived together, to which the answer was always simple.

‘He’s family.’ Mordred would remark, when his wife asked.

‘He’s the only thing I’ve got.’ Merlin would say in his slightly sappier moments.

When they first kissed, it was entirely Merlin’s fault. He’d been drinking slightly too much, the War had been horrible. He had thought for sure that Arthur would rise, but when he hadn't, he’d returned back to his home to find that Mordred had also returned. Split up after conscription, they both knew they’d live through the war, regardless of whether they died.

The drinks removed the barriers between them, until Merlin admitted that he didn’t think he could have done this without Mordred. The Druid looked shocked, before reaching for him, brushing a curl of hair out of his face. It had been a moment far too terrifying, the distance between them non-existent, until Merlin found his lips pressed to Mordred’s.

After that, it was just a pattern. They prepared for the rising of the group, settled into a routine that slowly became more acceptable in society’s eye, especially at the turn of the twenty-first century. By the time they were married, both were fully accepting of the fact that it would probably just be the two of them against the world for the rest of eternity.

Funnily enough, neither of them minded too much anymore. 


End file.
